Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
Level 2 Nadia (18/20) Location: Limsa Lominscuttle Town – The Drowning Wench (Dinnertime) Blazermate's @Archmage MC, Bowser's @DracoLunaris, Ace Cadet's @Yankee, Hat Kid's @Dawnrider, Frog's @Dark Cloud Word Count: 630
Maybe he was just trying to reassure her, but Nadia found that Link's words set her a little at ease. She didn't know much about fate or destiny, but if anyone knew what awaited Linkle, it had to be the man who shared both her name and world of origin. Plus, Nadia figured that things simply must work out for Linkle in the end. If such a nice and well-meaning girl truly met a dismal end purely on account of her own desire to do good for other people, it would just be too cruel.
Frog appeared as Bowser left, the King Koopa no doubt headed to find the new friends still stuck at the Pirate's Cove. Peach wanted to help them as well, feeling guilty even for listening to Nadia's story of her travails in the Dead Zone and getting something to eat. Bowser ended up heading for the bar to get food to go, so she found herself with a moment to answer the amphibian. “Well, uh...it was pretty easy,” Peach admitted. “Most people we come across and manage to free recognize what's been done and want to set it right, or at least take their revenge. So we end up pooling our resources, and before you know it we've got a whole army.” With some boxed chow on his person Bowser made for the exit, and the princess stood up to follow. “Sorry, I've got to go. I'd like to get to know you better sometime. I'm Peach, by the way.” She gave a brisk wave at everyone present, then hurried to join the sea monster on his trip across the city.
The sight of Link nearly spitting up his milk made Nadia giggle. “Nyahaha, guess not! Least, not in my world's sense. But eatin' bugs can't be good for ya. Yuck, fur-get that!” He went on to make the logical connection that she possessed a parasite of her own, but Nadia rewarded his hypothesis with a shake of her head that sent her platinum blonde hair swinging. “Nuh-uh.” She dropped one hand, which proceeded to crawl across the surface of the table in a circle, and rested her head in the other. “It's the Life Gem that keeps me alive! Took it off those bastard Medicis, and boy were they pissed. If I didn't swallow it I woulda died when they hacked me to pieces, but here I am.” Her tone grew uncommonly vehement when she mentioned the Medicis, but it quickly faded to ruefulness. “I was gonna use the Skull Heart to bring back my family. The Fishbone Gang. Raised me ever since I was a kitten...” In her current state she couldn't suppress her emotion. Her increasingly tremulous voice broke, and she could feel tears welling in her eyes.
Because of the choice she made today, she would never see their faces again. Never see their smiles or hear their raucous laughter. Never share a meal, and never watch another sunset. Though they died years ago, she never came to terms with that reality, always figuring that the long-sought Skull Heart would bring them back. But now they lay forever beyond her reach. Nadia blinked back her tears. “Bah, look at me makin' a mess. If they saw me like this they'd laugh until they were cryin' too.” With a final sniff she shook her head, then extended her step. Muscle fibers lashed out to sink into the end of her hand and reel it in to smack into place. She gave her hand a playful spin as if to tighten it into place, flexed her fingers, and stood. “Ya know what, I think I'll get seconds. Who knows when I'll get another chance, right?” She planned to get order another helping of seafood.
Edge of the Blue – Limsa Lominscuttle Town (After Dinner)
The sight of an Abyssal Water Princess sent both Brineybeard and Shippy into a panic, with the vessel in particular growing visible angry as it turned to face her way. But the former pirate did not issue any orders, instead watching Bella like a hawk. Neither her words nor their tone escaped him, and Junior's declaration did not go unnoticed. Bella's concern -fear, even- seemed genuine, and though wary and uncomfortable he let her be. Keeping one eye on the Abyssal he leaned over Shippy's railing to get a better look at Sakura's condition. His expression did not inspire a surge of confidence. “She be concussed most like. Bruised 'n battered too.” He disappeared, but returned soonafter with a bottle he left his ship to present to Junior. The trepidation with which he approached Bella made it quicker for the prince to come to him. “Vulnerary,” he explained as he handed the medicine over. “It'll do 'er good, but she's gotta rest to let 'er brain recover.”
“Merci, monsieur!” Bella thanked him. Though rising from a kneeling position presented great difficulty, with the support of her tail she could do it, and gave the captain a bow. “I owe her my life. She is...extremely precious to me. If there is anything...” with a gasp she descended back to her knees. “Nuh...er, anything I can do. Please let me know.”
The clomp of feet on the wooden pier heralded Ranger's arrival. Brineybeard squinted. “Hmm...settin' aside that twisted metal...ah! Ahoy Ranger, my apologies fer not recognizin' ye at first.”
“Oh hey, Mr. Beard. Been a while,” the ship smiled.
Bella looked between the two. “You know each other?”
Nodding, Ranger told her, “Since I'm a teacher, and records are a mess, I make sure to try and get as much information as I can for my students. He's an excellent source on all sorts of old-timey topics, mostly maritime. The last pirate...”
Brineybeard rubbed his head. “Arr, I ain't a pirate no more, lassie, I been keepin' me work honest.” He turned his attention to Sakura. “Be she lookin' any better?”
It was around that time that movement on the other end of Pirate's Cove caught Bella's eye, but when she looked over she was relieved to see Peach, as well as two other trailing her in the manner of accomplices. The machine and the shelled seabeast certainly didn't seem like Limsa inhabitants, although truth to be told Bella couldn't say what that entailed. Rather, she supposed she noticed their eyes, and assumed them to be friends of the cause. Peach hurried over, running down the dock until she could jump aboard the Ganryu-maru. “You must be the one needing my help,” she addressed Ranger.
“You're Peach?” Ranger's visible eye filled with pleading as she thrust her hands forward. “Then please, get this out of me! Whatever it takes, I need it gone!”
Peach answered her with a solemn nod. “Of course. Hold still.”
Ranger raised her brows. “What, right he-WHOA!” She jolted as the princess thrust her fingerlessly gloved hand straight inside her, like someone reaching into a tide pool. Paralyzed, she could only wait until Peach's fingers closed around something and she abruptly yanked it out. A burst of light came off the ship as she changed back to just how she used to be, and with relief she felt the familiar contours of her typical face. “Ohhhhh, thank goodness. If I ever do that again I must be far, far more careful.”
With furrowed brows Peach peered into the spirit she held between thumb and forefinger. She also spared a glance at Sakura, noting her rigging and other changes. “Yeah, this is just a flat-out monster. Fusion means taking the powers but also appearance and personality of the spirit, so do it wisely. That matter asode...” she reached out her hand. “It's good to meet you.”
“Likewise!” The teacher shook her hand heartily. “I'm Ranger. This is Bella and Rika. After Sakura freed them, they gained a sort of new awareness, and they're on our side.”
Peach studied the two, intrigued. “I see. It might be hard to convince the navy and citizens of that. As I'm sure you've realized.” She looked out to sea and the horizon beyond, then back to Bella and especially Rika. If they were going anywhere they needed something to wear. “Well, it's getting going to be cold and dark soon. We could spend some money to get clothes from Hawkers' Alley so you could slip up to join the rest of us at the Mizzenmast.”
For a moment Bella found herself quite overwhelmed. Where did these people get such understanding, and such generosity? “Y-you're too kind,” the Water Princess stammered. “Really. But I can't even walk. There's a cabin on the ship that would do just fine.”
Peach sent a furtive glance at Bowser. On the way over she avoided speaking to him, but if he wanted to endear himself to her, here was a way. “If only there was someone well-versed in the art of carrying fair maidens around.”
Just then, a tremendous white light filled the eastern sky. Over the peaks of the mountain ridges and the towering trees of the Dark Forest it loomed, terrifying in its size and power. Peach stared until her eyes hurt, as mesmerized as she was horrified, then averted her gaze. After a few moments Bella found her voice. “What...what is that?!”
“The bomb...” Peach breathed. “Judging by the map...that must be it.” Like the others she failed to catch a glimpse of Galeem, being at sea level and their view of the Lord of Light blocked. “Well,” she said at length. “Another one down?”
Edge of the Blue – Limsa Lominscuttle Town (After the Explosion)
Though she lingered on the edge of the alleyway for only a moment, Scharnhorst made up her mind quickly. Her, unable to brave the dark of a simple shortcut so that she might rejoin her sisters in celebrating victory all the faster? Unthinkable! “Hmph!” she sneered, her disdain purely directed at her own momentary apprehension. “I will never back down! Just you wait, Gneisenau. This vintage will blow your choice out of the water!” After tossing her exceptionally long violet hair, the eyepatch-wearing soldier couched the bottle she carried and took off at a jog between the dockhouses.
She never knew what hit her. Sephiroth's blade sank through her back as he landed on her with his full weight, driving the point through her body and into the planks below. A gasp of shock rattled from her lungs, and the wine bottle fell from her limp hands to hit the blood-speckled boards with a bump. With the last of her strength she instinctively willed her cannons to fire, but she had left her rigging behind for the party. Her head fell, with her hair strewn all about, and she began to dissolve into ash. In a few moments, only her spirit remained. The proud, warlike Scharnhorst had been assassinated without so much as a chance of fighting back.
But the noise of Sephiroth's impact had not gone unnoticed. He could hear noise in both dockhouses, and both featured doors leading to the alley. Only a scant few moments remained in which he could make an escape without things getting messier.
The Stranger landed without a hitch, but he quickly realized that he set down on uneven footing. At first he thought that the Skullgirl had taken leave of her senses in desperation and resorted to bombarding him with everything she had to try and take him down. When the ground beneath his feet shuddered, however, his mockery froze in his throat. Even for someone used to grappling with snow and ice, he quickly found it harder and harder to keep his balance. With a start he realized—for the first time perhaps, this girl wasn't doing something foolish after all. He glanced back at the yawning black crevasse, into which copious amounts of snow and ice chunks were falling. If she couldn't kill him, she meant to bury him instead.
He laughed, and gathered himself to jump. “Finally, usin' your brain.” In a plume of frost he leaped skyward once more, with the last of the ground beneath him shattering as he did, and a flurry circled his enemy's position. Evading it would prove no more difficult than last time, but this time she could weaken the area further with another volley of bombs. A moment later, when the Stranger crashed down, his weight and strength carried him straight through the fragmented ice. Surrounded by wintry shards, he vanished into the depths below.
For all the aching in the Skullgirl's neck, however, the ravine couldn't be that deep. If nothing obstructed his path he would surely rise again.
As the fusions continued, Panther was happy to break her attention away from the dazzling display to speak more with Primrose. She leaned in as well, giving the conversation a confidential air, although her response held little in the way of secrets. “Oh no,” she told the dancer. “Personas are...well, it's a little complicated. They're us. They're like, our personalities given form. Masks that we put on in order to fight and overcome hardship. I wouldn't have thought to try giving them spirits, but after seeing Midna's wolfos, maybe?”
“Allow me to explain, my lady!” Mona plopped down on Primrose's other side, ruining any semblance of privacy the conversation might have had. “They're given shape by the mythological archetypes that dwell within humanity's sea of souls, the collective consciousness and culture, which affect how people develop their personalities. The Thieves awakened to their Personas in the depths of despair—faced with frustration at injustice or suffering, they chose to rebel! Our Personas are our rebellious spirits, with the power to take revenge on those who take advantage of the weak!”
Panther nodded. “By accepting our desires, we gained the power to achieve them! Not everyone has the will to break free though, so it's up to us to right the wrongs of society, by stealing hearts and changing one person at a time!” She giggled. “It's serious business, but it's also super cool. You know...” she placed the back of one hand against her chin thoughtfully, just as Primrose did a moment before. “Hey Mona, will you shoo a sec? Girl talk.”
She waited for the cat to clear out before she continued. “If you're trapped in here in the Metaverse like us, may be you have it in you, too. I've been keeping an eye on you so far, ever since you joined us in the pyramid. I'm a little envious, really. You're super nice and cool, and really know what you're doing. But I get the feeling that something's got you down. Like, weighing on your mind.” She smiled apologetically, waving her hand. “I'm not gonna pry or anything, but what I mean is, if I could find the will to rebel against the people taking advantage of me and my friend, I'm sure you can, too. So if you're ever on the verge of giving in, listen for a voice inside you.” Her blue eyes blazed with conviction. “And accept your lust for revenge.” When Primrose asked to speak later, Panther gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, of course! ...Sorry if I got a little, um, intense there.”
A short while later, Tora took note of the dancer inspecting the strange-looking devices alongside Sectonia, and spotted the slots on their sides. “Oh, those must be different type of treasure box, like in Lumbridge!” the Nopon confirmed. “When friends open those in castle, we get special loot!” With a final glance at Poppi he waddled back over to the loot pile, ducked underneath Midna as she zoomed past, and snatched a few of the dollar bills. “These papers unlock like key, meh.” Rather than prove it, however, he waited with great anticipation—for another fusion was about to begin. Primrose vanished into a radiant maelstrom of her own, and was remade.
Notable Spirit Consumed: Desert Pyromancer Zoey The host has gotten a little taller and a bit more pale. Her abdominal muscles have gained definition. Her top's cut has gotten a little lower, but her waistcloth has become a skirt that extends all the way around one leg and gotten longer. She has gained thigh-high boots and bicep-length gloves of a dark, flexible material. She's also acquired a red hood/headdress with a built-in black veil that covers her nose and mouth. Both the hood and the skirt have golden patterns sewn in. This spirit confers the Power Pyromancy Flame, allowing the host to bring forth a portion of primordial flame in the palm of her hand that can be used as a casting catalysts for pyromancies, although the Flame by itself is too weak to do anything but provide a little heat and cannot spread. The default pyromancies are Fire Orb and Flame Fan. This spirit also confers the Weakness Zoey's Bane, causing the host to take more damage from fire and physical thrusting/piercing attacks
Fire Orb The signature flame-manipulating spell common to pyromancers. Hurls a giant fire orb. The blazing fire orb explodes on impact, dealing fire damage to the surrounding area. They say that once a pyromancer learns this spell, their understanding of the flame deepens, together with a yearning for it.
Flame Fan Pyromancy of Zoey, descendant of the desert pyromancers. Use repeatedly to brush the fan left and right. Zoey possessed true beauty, as did all the desert pyromancers, but hers did not poison, and so she became the unassuming queen of the feeble ones.
Tora gave a sagacious nod. “Not that different, meh.” He looked around. “Anyone else before unboxing and crushing?”
The Phantom Thieves stood four abreast on one side of the pile, looking over the remaining options. Joker recounted them aloud. “A bat, a grotesque, the berserker, another Lamia, one more bike robot, the four-arms, the bug woman, the blue zombie, and a lot of insects.” He reached down and took Harrow, his chosen opponent in the temple's sanctum. “I'm used to fusing Personas in different ways, but it should still work. I'll try combining this thing with Ghul to increase its attack power.”
Mona pursued that line of thinking. “In that case, the four-armed brute might boost Captain Kidd's strength. Or the Lamia boost Carmen's firepower.”
“Or...” Panther began. “I could try the Lamia myself. She's blonde too after all, and not too weird looking. After seeing the changes the others went through, I don't think I'd lose my legs with just one spirit. And if both Carmen and I have fire magic, that'll be double the power, rather than just a little more for Carmen!”
Joker gave tentative approval. “If you're willing to risk it. These changes couldn't possibly carry over into the real world, after all. But let me go first.” He brought forth his newest Persona, Ghul. It appeared with a shriek, a hideously gaunt, malformed humanoid. When Joker pressed in the spirit of Harrow, the Persona melted away into golden light and blue flame, then reappeared as an even greater monster. With flesh pulled back away from its skull, elongated claws, a filthy toga-like garment, scattered pieces of scrap metal armor, and a crop of blades buried in its back, it epitomized terrifying viciousness. Joker shivered and banished it, glad that no changes appeared to extend to him.
Next, Skull summoned Captain Kidd. “Alright buddy,” he said as he took the Gorlek spirit. “I dunno 'bout you, but a skeleton with three eyes and four arms sounds good to me!” He jammed the thing in, and the transformation took hold. Sure enough, the fusion finished with a four-armed, bearded skeletal captain, his garb lined with bluish-black fur and a second eyepatch across his forehead. The anchor of his ship had detached, looking more like a pickaxe, and Skull grinned as he imagined his Persona swinging it around. “Awwww man, that's awesome! We'll be freakin' unstoppable!”
Finally, Panther donned her Phantom Thief outfit and took hold of the Lamia spirit, perhaps hoping she could isolate changes to it. “Okay...here goes.” She absorbed the spirit, and began to change. Her friends looked on with trepidation as the light faded, revealing a different Panther. Her blonde pigtails had gotten much longer, reaching her lower back, and her pupils had become slits in crimson eyes. She looked down to see that her bright red suit now looked more maroon, although that paled compared to the realization that her skin tone had darkened and she couldn't see her feet anymore. “Oh, great,” she sighed, glancing over at a red-faced Skull. “Yuck it up, why don't you?” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait, did you get shorter?”
The boy couldn't seem to avert his eyes. “H-hey, you can't blame me if you're suddenly looking more adult. You got taller. And, uh your...” He blinked, trying to change the subject. “Your teeth are sharp!”
“Really? Ouch...” Panther reached up to her mouth, quickly confirming her friend's observation. In the act of moving she noticed a new weight behind her, and turned to see a scaled snake tail where her suit's fake cat tail had been. An experimental poke confirmed that it was real. “W-well, what do you know. Guess Midna's not the only one with a tail.” She rubbed her arm self-consciously, backing out of the spotlight and nearly tripping over her tail in the process. “I must look kinda scary, huh?”
“Whaaaat? No way,” Skull told her, clapping an encouraging hand on her shoulder. “I'd say you look downright pretty...uh...pretty cool! Yeah!”
“Oh yeah?” she laughed as she threw her arm around his. “Like me now, huh?”
Skull grinned. “So uh, can you shoot fire? Is your bite poisonous?”
“Are you volunteering to find out? Besides, it's 'venomous', not 'poisonous'!”
Ignoring the pair's tomfoolery, Tora had already managed to open one of the loot boxes. It burst apart with a loud noise, shooting out its contents like a confetti popped. “Meh meh!?” Poppi, still in her armored Alpha form, grabbed him out of the way. The items pinged off her harmlessly, and fell to the floor. There was a cowboy hat, a strange device, and a golden emblem that looked as if it could be attached on a keychain. “Huh.” He looked over the device, poking and fiddling, until a holographic card popped up giving further details. Even then it didn't make much sense, so he put it down and went on to the next one.
“Okay, box number two!” Feeding the thing some money made it dispense another three items: a piece of leather with a desert color scheme of white, beige, and brown, a sticker depicting a futuristic monkey, and a soft oak hat. The third, opened right after with a golden glow, producing an aerosol paint can, a striped crown, and a reddish-brown hood with a tassel. Both gave off a magical feeling, the same Tora got from the spy outfit back in Lumbridge. “Ooh, Tora think these ones costume change! It enchanted to fit anyone!” He considered putting it on to prove it, particularly since it looked comfortable, but decided not to. Someone probably needed to beat the desert heat more than he.
After that little event, there came a moment of awkward silence. Nobody else seemed to want to fuse. Joker cleared his throat. “If we're done resting and getting ready, we might as well get going. Necronomicon's scans found a way down to the desert.”
Poppi raised her hand like a schoolgirl. “Before friends go, let's crush all leftover spirits. Could give useful stuff. Maybe even way to carry food and water with us.” Her suggestion met no resistance, and after anyone who still wanted something took their prizes, the heroes not busy racing or otherwise testing out their abilities began stomping around, crushing the sparkling motes underfoot.
As each was smashed, the resulting light squirted to one side and became a new item of some kind. Tora found it more fun than anything he'd done so far today. “Wheee!” After a few moments, the whole stockpile of spirits had been decimated, and Yellow Team could take inventory. Almost every single one of the fading Trapinch and Vibrava spirits turned out junk, bits of scale, fang, organ or wing that could have meant something to a master craftsman but amounted to little here. The Redead spirit gave a spooky mask. From the Arcmine spirit came a glowing insect, shaped like a bug but certainly not a living thing. Spaulders of the Bat resulted from the bat creature, the Herker gave a soda can, and the last Roader offered up a trophy stand.
Skull glanced at the can. “Is that a soda?” He picked it up.
Looking over his shoulder -an easy feat now that she was taller than him- Panther read, “Overcharge Delirium XT. Sounds like a gross energy drink. Make sure you read the ingredients first if you're gonna drink that.”
After an opportune sidelong glance Skull shrugged and put it down for anyone who wanted it. “I've got plenty of energy.”
“Alrighty then!” Necronomicon said. The rest of the Thieves suited up. “Follow me, everyone!”
For a few minutes the party walked at a brisk pace through dark, sandy corridors. After only a few steps the light and comfort of the oasis seemed miles away. The spacious passages gave the unshakable feeling that they were meant for the transit of something much larger than people, but at least Necronomicon could move unhindered. Her electronic green glow lit the way for the others as she led them on a series of deliberate turns. Only when the party ran into giant rats or spiders, groaning husks, or bandits did she slow down and hang back, so that her allies could test out their new powers. Panther quickly found out that she commanded not just fire of her own but the ability to unleash ominous words of despair, stopping her enemies in her tracks.
A short while later, the team stood in a square chamber, a hole in the floor in front of them. Sunlight flooded up from the aperture, suggesting that the room hung over an area open to the outside. Necronomic pointed downward with a tentacle. “Through there. My scans indicate a clear shot to the bottom!”
Skull crouched on the edge. “Looks like sand. Not too far down either. But its kind of at an angle.”
“We'd probably slide,” Joker confirmed, without thinking.
A glance flew between Panther and Skull, and they grinning. “Let's goooooooooooo!” they yelled together, leaping down and onto the sand. They started sliding the moment they hit the incline and zoomed away. “Woooooooooo!”
“Wait for Tora!” the Nopon called as he threw himself over the edge, followed by Mona and Joker. Poppi switched to her more mobile QT Pi form and jumped after a moment later.
Tora squealed in delight as he flew down the slide, emerging a moment later into a gigantic sand-lined corridor, one side open to the desert. Then he fell silent.
The sunset shone a jaw-droppingly gorgeous orange-yellow from behind the split mountain, passing over silhouetted ruins of uncommon grandeur, and shining across the sand like molten gold. His eyes remained wide and his mouth open as he passed into and out of the shadows of the monolithic columns, gliding at a comfortable pace, and witnessed the graceful flight of living kites against the peach-colored sky. A short ways behind him he could hear the swish of sand kicked up by the last two Thieves, but they too had no words. For how long this lasted Tora make no guess, but after a short time the path swung to the right, bringing him out into the open air. He cruised down a sloping valley of sand, walls of buildings on either side, the occasional stone bridge above.. For a time the kite-creatures even flew alongside him. Then the path suddenly grew steeper, with Tora picking up speed, until it suddenly bottomed out at the buildings' end and deposited him onto the open desert. He slid to a stop not too far from Skull and Panther, who remained sitting side by side.
Joker, Mona, Poppi, and the rest appeared shortly, with Necronomicon flying in from above. Tora found the experience a tough one to explain, it being a mixture of exhilarating fun and incredible awe. Although not a poetic Nopon, he couldn't help but feel as though seeing that sunset in that moment made a lot of things worth it. A handful of appreciative seconds passed before Joker roused his troop into action. “We've got a long way to go. And we'll make good progress at night with the heat off our backs, following those tracks.” He pointed out a set of traintracks that led extended from the edge of the ruins in the direction of the mountain. “Mona, let's save the car until we're tired.”
“Got it.”
Joker took off at a jog. “Then let's get started.”
To Nadia's delight a few of her new compatriots from the Bismarck scuffle made their way over to join her at her table: the upbeat Ace Cadet and the man of the hour himself, Link. Naturally Sephiroth went his own way, which Nadia couldn't say she disliked. If he'd been antisocial and murder-happy before, absorbing the spirit of a crazed madwoman probably wouldn't help. Her current company suited her far better. No doubt as eager to leave their fatigue, tension, and hunger behind as she, they placed their orders with the barmaid one after another, with the Monster Hunter in particular placing an nigh-absurd request for one of everything. The sincerity with which he did so convinced Nadia that it wasn't a joke, either. He meant to eat every bite. After he'd greeted her on the way over, and eagerly inquired about the Dead Zone, she had no reason to doubt his evidently forthright nature. “You're kitten me? Jeez, talk about an appetite!” she ribbed. “I'd probably want to die be-fur getting even halfway through that.” She neglected to tell Link that if he expected to get vegetable nutrition from onion rings, he would be disappointed.
That swordsman then took the opportunity to introduce himself, complete with proffered hand. With a bright laugh Nadia clapped her hand into his. “Nahaha, aren't we formal! Don't mention it, my guy. Kidnapping's a nasty business, so I'm glad everyone's safe.”
He brought the conversation back around to the Dead Zone, reminded her of the Cadet's interest from earlier. Peach, having just heard the terrible news about Linkle, made her way over to join the three at their table. “I'd like to hear it too.”
“Oh, sure!” Nadia nodded, leaning back in her chair again. She exhaled heavily, casting her mind into the past. “Man, that place sucks. The sort of stuff I figure a lot of people would wanna forget, but I don't mind lettin' the cat outta the bag. Let's see...well, I'll start at the beginning. I went there to find the Skull Heart myself, but I got trapped in this police station with a whole buncha other survivors. We couldn't get out, so we had to fend off waves of zombies for days. More people keep tricklin' in until this big group arrives. Nero, Blazermate, V, Banjo and Kazooie, Jak and Daxter, a guy with a crazy hand, all of 'em. They lend a hand, and it turns out there's this giant ghost haunting the place, so after they give it something to eat we're able to escape! Only one problem...” She leaned forward, holding up her claws for effect as her narrative picked up. “Here comes the biggest zombie horde we've ever seen! V used his big demon to blast through the back wall, bwaaaaaaaam, and we make a run for it. We're barely ahead of the horde all the way to this big future-y tower, where this crazy guy in green armor just decimates the horde. We escaped to Lumbridge.”
She relaxed again, taking a deep drink of her newly-delivered beer with relish before launching into the second part of the story. So engaged was she in the telling of her tale that she even forsook her habitual puns. “Okay, so me, Nero and V go back. We see this dude with a bag on his back getting chased by a monster snake lady, so we help him out, and the psycho guy in armor shows up to help again. That's when we learn Sam -the delivery man- is gonna be delivering some sort of bomb right to the middle of the Dead Zone and turn the whole place into a crater. We get a move on to take down one of the root bosses, picking up this demon secretary Pandy on the way. After gettin' through this crazy torn-up hell mall we find our target in this courthouse, a giant corpse monster with a crown and tentacles callin' himself the king of Minos. Take him down no problem, then start drivin' south for the last root boss.
After refreshing herself again, she continued. Even if no expert storyteller, she put her all into recounting her experience, to make it that much more engaging for her audience. “A whole like third of the city got wrecked by, like, a lava earthquake, and it's full of demons. Nico makes me a...that's Nero's friend by the way, Nico, she makes me a cool scythe out of the king's spirit. So we're sloggin' through that, we fight some big demons and meet up with this cool guy named Raidou. We also find Nero's uncle Dante, except she's a cool aunt now. Then the armor dude decides he wants to clean out this flesh pit, which was really tough, and I get hurt pretty bad. There's some kind of fight nearby and then we join up with Bowser's group. On the way to the library I asked what they got up to, and before dukin' it out with Dante they were runnin' from another zombie horde, except these ones had gross maggots in them and could use weapons and drive cars. Eventually we reach the library, which of course has these awful spiders in it that pretend to be normal objects, but we reach the catacombs below.”
At this point Nadia's lively demeanor took a serious turn. “Marie was down there. The Skullgirl. We ended up fighting her, but it was brutal. Lots of people got really hurt, and...we lost Raidou. Banjo and Kazooie, Slayer, and Donnie got rattled pretty bad. In the end we managed to beat her, and I held the Skull Heart in my hands. I could have brought my family back right then and there, but...I thought about everything that happened after that. My new friends, my memories, who I am today. Undoing it would have been wrong, and the Skull Heart's whole deal is tempting you into doing the wrong thing.”
Her face twisted into a fierce scowl. “But Linkle...she thought she could beat it. Or maybe that whatever would happen would be worth it, as long as she could do some good. I tried to talk her out of it, but the words just...I couldn't say it right. She became the new Skullgirl and got whisked away. Gone. Just like that.” Sighing, Nadia hung her head, and her anger turned to sorrow. “No idea where she is now. I think she's holding it together, wherever she is. She's a tough cookie. But the Skull Heart is pure corruption. There was nothing we could do. We decided to leave, 'cause of the explosion, but the job's not done.” She looked up again, her features determined. “Not by a long shot.”
Shaking her head, she gave a dry laugh. “That's what I remember, at least! Some stuff might be mixed up, it was pretty stressful. Sorry fellas, I'm really bringin' down the mood here, huh? Things seem like they're goin' purr-etty good over here, nyeah? We ought to relax and enjoy ourselves.” As if on cue, the barmaid appeared with her serving platter and some food for everyone, although this made for just the first of many such trips to bring the Cadet his meal.
Peach stared at the accumulating feast wide-eyed. “Gosh...darn,” she stammered, her emphatic side tempered by her prim and proper one. Having maintained a morose silence both during and after Nadia's story, the sight -and smell- of the smorgasbord jolted her back. “I guess I should get something myself,” she reasoned. “To...keep up my strength.”
Already halfway through a fried fish fillet, Nadia nodded vigorously. “Thish shtuff ain't half bad!” All around, the heroes of the Blue Team got their long-overdue chance to eat and drink their fill, catch up, and exchange dialog. With a wholehearted commitment to her meal, Nadia spoke not another word until she mopped up the last of her catsup with her last fry. “Not what I think of when I hear 'chips',” she admitted. “But good overall! The lemon was a nice touch.” She eyed Link and the Cadet, still at it, while Peach worked her way through a sandwich. “You sure you two don't have parasites or somethin'? You guys must work out like crazy.”
Peach froze mid-bite, her eyebrows raised, so Nadia added a little context. “Back where I'm from, the heavy hitters all have stuff like parasites to give them powers, or living weapons, or something. Almost nobody reaches the big leagues on physical prowess alone. Beowolf's the only one I know of, and his stuff's half kayfabe anyways!” A little woozy from drinking her beer so fast, she leaned on the table with a broad smile, waiting to hear what her new pals had to say.
With a few of her commanders in attendance, Merlwyb listened to Geralt's explanation at rapt attention. A clerk wrote everything down as he said it just to be sure, although the Admiral had no need for her records to figure things out. “So that's what we're working with,” she remarked at length. “These orbs contain our enemy's essence. As long as seizing them halts the replenishment of their ranks, we need not concern ourselves with the specifics of how the Abyssals are revived. If the process did not require the spirits, they would not be gathering them. And if we can get new weapons and munitions from them, all the better. That just leaves one matter—how to collect them ourselves.
“We could redirect the submarine division,” Commander Enterprise suggested immediately. Clad in crisp black and white, with golden adornment and red lining, she stood out as both austere and conscientious. Although she lacked intensity, the sharp-eyed eagle on her shoulder more than made up for it. “Given that they are some of our most vulnerable units and Abyssals fight well underwater, we would need to deploy them after a battle to collect the spirits.”
“After may be too late, my friend,” reasoned the luxuriantly-dressed Commander George V. “You forget, perhaps, that the spirits are pulled away moments after sinking by the sea creatures Mr. Geralt mentioned. It would be reasonable to assume Abyssals guarding the flow as well. By the time we could guarantee the safety of our submarines, pickings could be slim indeed.”
Merlwyb challenged her immediately. “Your criticism is warranted, but did you have an idea of your own, Commander?” With a thin smile George turned her head half away, indicating that she did not.
Looking up from a glass of red wine she'd been working her way through, the elegant fourth commander, Zara, offered her own idea. “Speaking of sea creatures, Admiral. We may be able to utilize the city's fishers. If we equip a select few ships for the sort of heavy defense my division prides itself on, and have them run nets through the water, we could sweep up all the spirits.”
“And Abyssals too, to tear them right open! This is war we're talking about, with soldiers and monsters, not catching food, however near to your heart the subject might be!” Commander Kii towered over the rest, all save Merlwyb herself. Although elaborate, her garb complimented her warrior spirit.
Zara gave a smile, more condescending than polite. “Our fisherfolk are no fools, dear Kii. I've learned as much visiting their wharves and markets. The nets are woven such that even the fiercest fish cannot get purchase with their teeth to bite through. While underwater neither bullets nor Abyssals' hands will be able to force the nets apart, and if they use fire torpedos, well...” She took another sip of her wine. “According to Mr. Geralt, the spirits will be destroyed and reduced to items.”
She glanced at Merlwyb and found a look of approval. “Excellent suggestion, Commander. We'll put your armor division at the front of the operation. And Kii.” The Admiral's steely gaze turned on the fox-eared ship. “I'll thank you to leave both pettiness and personal grievances outside my office. Outside your profession, as well, if that could be managed. Dismissed.” As the commanders left she turned to the clerk. “Once everything is compiled, send a copy to Heinrich so she knows everything the moment she lands.” Finally, she faced Geralt and Kamek. “Thank you both for your aid. And your whole team for your efforts. Because of you, tomorrow will begin a new chapter in this war. Hopefully it will be the last. In order to help you reach the Bottomless we'll be launching a full offensive, so I hope you will all be ready to take advantage of it come morning.”
If nothing else remained to be said, the Admiral planned to bid them farewell. She had a busy night ahead of her, and a busier day to follow.
The Stranger listened for the Skullgirl's response over the cry of the wind, but what she said made him think that she wasn't talking to him. He wore a disgusted look as she then yelled, both at him and whoever she replied to. Everything about the girl stank of futility and desperation, from the empty threats she trained on him to the questions she hurled his way. Sure, she had some power, but nothing that counted in this fight—and seeing it confounded drove her to distraction. But something she said annoyed him in return.
“I don't give a damn about that gods-forsaken star!” he bellowed in a spray of spittle, flexing his fists. “You think I'm just some pawn, little girl? That I'm afraid there's someone out there who can challenge me? HAH.” His laugh was rueful, scornful, condemning the Skullgirl with every synonym of 'stupid' in the book without saying word. “I've tried everything, EVERYTHING I got my hands on, to feel something, anything! 'Cause that's all I want. To feel alive one more time. And there MUST be someone out there who can make me feel...” He ground his teeth, fists clenched. “But it's not you. So let's. Finish this.”
He lifted one leg and slammed his foot down a short way from the ravine's edge, splitting the earth with another terrific CRACK. The vertical slice on which he stood tilted forward, carrying the Stranger atop it. His enemy's bombs washed over him, their force insufficient, and he hopped from his transport onto her side.
Dead Zone, 8:02 PM
Once, there was an explosion.
A bang that gave rise to life as we know it.
It was pure, blinding white, and it filled heavens and horizons alike. The villagers of Lumbridge town quaked with fear at the immaculate wall of death to the north, and panic broke out across the vast metropolis that long feared the diseased nightmare to the south. It ruptured the gathering evening of the star-speckled desert sky, and the people of the towers in the seastack city rushed to their balconies and windows to gawk at the bone-chilling spectacle far, fart to the east, blossoming over even the colossal trees of the Dark Forest. Soldiers in the eternal warzone of the Swordlands froze solid despite the heat of their battles. A terrible radiance pierced the snowy clouds and fog of the Frozen Highlands from the southeast, like lightning at midnight. And far to the north the nameless city that loomed on the precipice of everything looked south in wonderment as to what could have happened.
It was simple, all told, and it only lasted a few moments. No indescribable horror, nor inexplicable phenomenon. It was nothing more than a dome, miles wide and very high, of white light, the purest white that had ever been. And it was nothing like what came after.
Above Empty Space, the Lord of Light moved. Its brilliant wings revolved and unfurled, and a wave of kaleidoscopic creation energy flew in the direction of the blast's epicenter. It swarmed around certain has-beens, re-shaping, remaking. In a few moments the work was done, the power spent. Galeem slept on, its effort no more than unmindful tossing and turning in a slumber sufficiently disturbed. When the second light died down, it revealed that the Dead Zone was no more. Redgraccoon City, with all its horror, was no more than a hole in the ground. A gargantuan crater, marked along the bottom by black, five pointed stain as big as the city itself.
But the nightmare was not yet over. From the very center of the stain rose the Qliphoth, nested in its pot of bones as if nothing had ever happened, a lone sentinel standing tall above utter devastation.
Here's my application! Granpa Evgeny is here to help all the young'uns make the most of themselves.
Picture/Description: A fluffy bipedal beast, about the size of a wallaby but a lot heavier. His thick, poofy fur is ideal in cold climates, and covers everywhere except his stubby pink snout. A few ridges of scales, made from the same material as his horns, extend across his body, including as a sort of malleable brow above each of his big, dark eyes. A thick tail helps keep balance while walking on his hind legs, which like his forelegs have small, hard hooves.
Name: Evgeny
Race: – Stagaroo (Baby)
Gender: Male
Personality: In many ways Evgeny still acts like the old man he was. He can be stubborn and preachy at time, as well as rather honest and critical, but he is the way he is from a lifetime of being set in his ways and acts out of an earnest desire to help people. He is neither curmudgeonly nor grumpy, though it may seem so at first, instead wanting the best for people and believing they deserve honesty and straightforwardness rather than coddling or misdirection. Not very adventurous, he prefers comfort and routine, tries to be dignified, and can be slow to get going. That said, this new existence offers a world of opportunity, and in his mind spending his reinvention to try being just the way he was before would be a crying shame.
History: From his earliest years to his dying days, Evgeny was a man of modest dreams. A quiet but welcomed presence throughout a childhood spent in his Russian hometown, he maintained the kind of self-contained but conscientious demeanor that made him a dependable son, brother, and friend. He never yearned for the opportunity of higher education, nor to travel, nor to work anywhere but as a grocer in his father's store. He kept the home neat after his parents' early passing, always glad to entertain guests and offer them what hospitality he could. Evgeny married a woman who liked the idea of a quiet, simple life, and together they grew old without ever seeing a prairie sunset, feeling the heat of a desert, or the rain of a tropical forest. Their children, who longed to see and experience the world, moved out in their early twenties, after which Evgeny only ever reached them through letters. One late October morning his wife never awakened from the embrace of her dreams. A month later so too did Evgeny breath his last, alone in his bed, weary but satisfied, and ready to move on.
Hi. It's dr. Lovecraft. My computer has died, so I won't really be able to participate until further notice. I'd sign in to my account to say this, but I don't remember the password. So.... Yeah. I really hate to just drop out, especially after making the medic a bigger character than he was originally going to be, but I can't work off my phone.
Dang, that sucks. We could always reserve your spot, if you like?
@Lugubrious If you get my word count I'd appreciate it. And if I hit Lvl: 3 I'm going to play Conker from Conker's Bad Fur Day. I have to get some sleep talk later.
Your word count is 445. That would not bring you to level three. As for your plans, keep in mind that Conker would have to been encountered first in the world, and not manifested from the ether.
In regards to the content of your post, I'm a little curious. Frog seems to be quite down, although he both helped during the fight and during negotiations, which ended up not only exonerating the Blue Team heroes but also suggesting that there's a way to end the war that's been plaguing Limsa for as long as Frog's been there, which is all good news. During the fight Frog was also freed from Galeem's influence, and can now notice the red eyes of the townsfolk. I might have the wrong idea of his personality, but it would make sense if he went to ask Peach or Bowser (the leaders of this new group he's with) what exactly is going on.
During the discussion on what to call the red-eyes, Tora continued to find his own contribution more and more outclassed. Of course he didn't mind, but nothing quite struck a chord with him until Midna offered her suggestion, at which point Tora couldn't help but giggle at how perfect it was. “That make total sense, meh! Tora not realize until now that 'Galeem' like 'gleam', so 'Gleaming' is perfect!” After that, no other option would do for him. Already decided in his mind, he tried instead to picture the home Midna mentioned, a world without a sun. It boggled his mind. How could anything grow, after all? How could life exist? Then again, the shadow-attuned imp seemed rather magical, and if his time in the World of Light convinced Tora of anything, it was that anything was possible.
Although he meant to give the transformed Poppi Alpha and her new armored chassis a thorough analysis following his companion's fusion Tora could hardly keep his eyes off what happened next. A few of the others, perhaps also emboldened by the Medic's daring devotion to experimentation, jumped in on the fun. Midna was first, after making a comment Tora dismissed as inane since one of Poppi's optics was clearly its normal dark yellow. She performed some tests of her own using her Wolfos, which seemed to have no effect at first. When she stuffed a whole handful of vibrava spirits in, however, the creature completely metamorphosed. Until now, every fusion Tora witnessed added the aspect of the spirit to the host, but before him stood a dragonfly with the coloration of the Wolfos, as if the aspect had become the new base.
Fascinated, the Nopon reported his findings. “Wowow! So at about ten spirits of same type, host completely converted to other species, meh! Tora wonder what happen if ten all different types...?” It made for a somewhat scary thought, especially for someone tentative to even accept one into his heart. Every spirit changed not just a person's appearance but their personality. After so many fusions, would any trace of the original remain? How would opposing traits be reconciled? For the first time since arriving in the World of Light Tora's mind drifted to the eerie, ruined Land of Morytha beneath the Cloud Sea back home. There he and his friends had found and fought twisted monstrosities called Guldo. He remembered the chill that ran down his spine when he learned that they had once been humans who sought power and immortality by implanting the core crystals of blades into their brains. Things seemed different here, but still, wasn't there always such a thing as tempting fate?
The others no doubt planned to treat fusion carefully. So Tora set his misgivings aside and watched as Midna herself partook of the other Flygon spirit, changing in a manner quite different than the Medic did.
Spirit Consumed: Flygon The host has gotten taller, reaching four feet. Her waist, hips, and thighs have gotten larger and wider. Her already long hair has turned green and split into two thinner ponytails. She has a striped tail with a fanlike end Her fingers are also more clawlike. She has gained large red bauble accessories that hang from the sides of her Fused Shadow's crest. Her waist wrap has gained two extra lengths of green lined with red, and she has green slippers atop striped knee socks. This spirit confers the Power Dragon Type, giving the host the capability to learn all Dragon-type moves a Flygon can, as well as the starting moves Dragon Claw and Dragon Dance. It also confers the Weakness Dragon Weakness, making the host tame more damage from both dragon-aspected and anti-dragon attacks and weapons, as well as Fairy-type Pokemon moves and ice
Tora's cheered, highly impressed, but he managed to contain his enthusiasm. “Meh, meh, meh! Midna changing in same manner as Poppi: every form bigger and cuter than last! Tora wonder what friend can do now?” He watched in case she decided to demonstrate, although concentrating on diagnostics seemed like a lost cause now anyway.
Next, the newcomer stepped up to try his luck. “Meh-meh? Yoshi not take much convincing!” Not unlike, say, him. In fact the swordsman selected not one but two spirits, those of the single-wheeled machines fought at the cliff's edge.
Sparking Spirit Consumed: Roader x2 The host has gotten a little shorter. His eyes are bright yellow, without visible pupils. He has a separate tri-spiked helmet and mouthguard, as well as triple-spiked red shoulder and thigh pads. His lower legs below the knees are mechanical, with a tire in place of each foot. These spirits confer the Powers Roader Motor, allowing him to 'drive' around with a very low rate of stamina consumption and perform wheel-based maneuvers like drifting, and Roader Charge, allowing him to boost forward in a strong charge move that's difficult to interrupt. They also confer the Weaknesses Puncture Prone, which cripples his driving ability if his tires get popped, and Unsubtle Motors, which makes him easy to hear and track (thanks to the smell of gasoline) when he uses the motors
The changes to Yoshitsune turned out to be pretty small, mostly modifications to armor he already had, with the exception of his lower legs. Having built-in tires seemed pretty cool, although Tora wondered if it would be limiting in other ways. Either way, it wasn't like he could carry anyone around any better like this. Turning back to the loot, Tora waited to see if anyone else would try something.
As Bella continued to exercise, she did her best to listen to the plans and strategies ping-ponging back and forth between Sakura and Junior. In terms of schemes for bringing the Abyssal Fleet to heel -an idea that still sent her reeling mentally- boiled down to 'outward-in' and 'top-down' strategies. Both had upsides and downsides in military application, from what little she knew. An outward-in strategy would be less taxing and leave the stronger foes with fewer forces and options when it came time to make big moves, but it would take a lot of time and resources and potentially result in a stalemate. A top-down strategy would be faster and leave a victor with more spoilers, but it would be far more difficult all around. Bella couldn't keep this up for long; working out both her legs and her mind left her exhausted, and amenable to the idea of alternatives.
Based on Sakura's gung-ho attitude and the way she championed improvement of the self, Bella had a sneaking suspicion that the girl wouldn't be too enthusiastic about the notion of using spirits. Sure enough, Sakura quickly called that avenue a shortcut, saying that such methods turned out poorly and couldn't hold a candle to doing things the hard way. Such a philosophy no doubt had its merits, but given a little context it seemed just a little shortsighted. “W-well, didn't you take a spirit so you could-” Before Bella could say much the street fighter went on to express worry that fusion could hurt Bella's own natural abilities, watering them down to uselessness, and potentially not even help her walk in the first place. Bella pursed her lips, beginning to doubt her misgivings about Sakura's philosophy. Besides, shouldn't she just accept the word of the girl who saved her? She surely knew a lot more about right and wrong ways to do things than Bella did.
Junior countered Sakura instead. He asked how long it would take for hard work to get her fully mobile on land. Bella certainly didn't know how long it took for muscle to develop, but even one week seemed like way too long to do nothing while others saved the world. She gave him a dubious glance when she started repeating Sakura's slip-up immediately, but the Water Princess agreed wholeheartedly. “Spirits are a way to do things that you could never do before,” she reasoned. Her thoughts from earlier resurfaced. “If one can let you walk on water, one can surely let me walk on land...?”
Just then Rika finished her exercises, looking visibly worse for wear. Bella's brow furrowed. “Don't overwork yourself, Rika. Pain is not good.” Junior went on to offer a few more suggestions. “Well...none of that makes a difference if we can't go out there, I suppose.”
Shortly thereafter, Ranger returned from lookout duty on the deck. After the near-miss with Shropshire, the least Abyssal-looking of the three elected to keep an eye out in case of more arrivals, and the teacher appeared before the others with news to share. “It's the fishing boat, Ganryu-maru,” she told them. “Bringing in the last haul of the day, and they've got quite the catch, let me tell you. Their ship is too big to dock at the Fishers' Guild, so they pull in here. Also a good spot for the going and coming of the unsavory folks who take part in the fight club aboard.” Her tone had quickly become instructive in nature, finding a receptive audience in the form of the two Abyssals, Sakura, and Junior. “Brawling is off-limits in the city, you see. So anyone who wants to scrap makes arrangements to go out on Ganryu-maru while they're out fishing, along with spectators. The boat's big and flat enough to be a serviceable arena. Take a look if you like, although...” She looked between the Abyssals. “You two should just stick to the windows to avoid drawing attention. Me too, I suppose.”
Outside, the great ship came to a stop between the two piers of Pirate's Cove, neatly fitting into the space between them meant for two pirate ships side by side and practically occupying the whole cove in the process. With Shippy and the Atomos on the outside, that left the shady wharf at capacity. A veritable crowd of fisherman got to work, finishing the bagging of their catch and heading up toward the city and leaving the spectators to go about their business. Conspicuously fish-devoid, they departed in small groups, chatting among themselves or clustered around the fighters. Among them Sakura and Junior could see the ornery-looking clown and electric girl in blue they spotted fighting earlier in the day, as well as a sporty fellow with snake arms and a low stance, a bat-wielding kid with a pink pompadour, a weird cat, a blue martial artist, a rather haughty-looking girl in red, and a tough-looking guy with a a big blonde mop of hair.
A miserably incriminating scene surrounded the haphazard, embattled group, hostile faces at every turn. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife, yet there remained a glimmer of hope. Rather than initiate a mass-arrest or an offensive, the Admiral gave the accused a chance to speak. Perhaps she did so out of reason or fear, having seen at least the tail end of the brief but bitter struggle, or out of respect for the local or the status of the Princess, but the motley crew could state their case, and make plan the facts of the matter. But Nadia held her tongue as if a cat got it. In a fight she could hold her own, but getting caught red-handed by the fuzz? She would really be relying on her new friends now. So she kept quiet and waited, a little desperate, for someone to make a move.
Given his own familiarity with Limsa and its authorities, or perhaps just his own principles of fairness and responsibility, Frog leaped at the chance to ease the mounting pressure. He leaned on his own reputation as a known quality in these parts, then demonstrated the resolve behind his words with an immodest offering. The immediate remuneration caught Guildmaster Lyngsath off guard, and he hesitated to seize upon the warrior's weighty coinpurse. “Just a moment, Mr. Frog. I know you as an upstanding individual around here. Almost every time I post a commission its your face I see come to deliver my requested ingredients. I cannot imagine that you'd wreck havoc here without cause...and I especially cannot allow you to liquidate your entire savings for the sake of these people. You didn't cause any explosions after all! They should pay their fare share.” He looked upon Frog's compatriots in a new time, his temper no longer a boil but a simmer. “The idea that you would cover them...either I misjudged you, or I misjudged them...”
The act of brazen generosity served to catch the attention of the Admiral and her guard as well, suggesting that the matter warranted further consideration if not a change of opinions. Nobody's notice, however, could lay anywhere but on Sephiroth as soon as he disappeared into a undulating mass of lustrous color. Naturally the Admiral and her escort bristled, weapons at the ready in the face of an understandably alarming sight, but Peach broke from her paralysis to hold up pleading hands. “Wait, wait! This is a fusion, not an attack! He's disposing of the kidnapper's spirit so she can't regenerate!” Incredulous as her words might have seemed, Merylwyb proved herself a commander of uncommon temperance, and bade her soldiers hold their fire. A moment later, Sephiroth emerged from the luminous maelstrom, not quite the same.
Notable Spirit Consumed: Cia (Red) The host has gotten shorter, tan-skinned, and somewhat less muscular. His hair has shortened to half its original length, and gained a bit at the front that sweeps to the left side. His coat has become a dark red with faint yellow stripes, the chest window has gotten longer, and one pant leg has become a shorts leg. He's also gained golden bracelets and an extra golden belt. His obsession with Cloud has developed (and become somewhat conflated with Link) so that can't quite decide whether to kill him or 'claim him', but it's definitely gotten stronger, to the point where it's seldom far from his thoughts. This spirit confers the Power Dark Magic, allowing the host to fire off orbs or condense darkness into explosive geysers or cutting disks, draining appropriate amounts of MP. It also confers the Weakness Weak Point, leaving the host vulnerable to being stunned by exploitative attacks after pulling off special moves
Notable Striker Bonded: Cia An offensive Striker whose dark magic and temporary summons excels at controlling space versus brute force, and one who's only too happy to help her darling whenever called upon (and sometimes when not) now that they have the eternal bond she always longed for
As the light died down, the results left the onlookers a mixture of wary and astounded, giving Geralt a good opening. He threw a few Abyssal spirits at Merlwyb's feet, prompting her to pick one up and examine it as she listened. While his tone certainly won him little favor -does he think we like dying out there?- the import what he said could not be denied, and she absorbed every word. For a brief moment she looked at Pennsylvania for confirmation, holding up the prismatic mote. She gave a tentative nod—these spirits were not unknown to her. The Admiral watched Geralt produce the Hermes spirit with a stiff face, and after seeing what became of Sephiroth, didn't need to ask him what 'using' a spirit entailed. Having already dealt a weighty first impression the Witcher requested that her entourage cease menacing his crew. Merlwyb didn't need much time to consider it. “If this information you bring holds water, it is not something I can ignore. Stand down.” She raised a hand, signaling for her guards and ships to relax, then bid Geralt continue. “Go on.”
In the end, after giving a little context to the battle of the Bismarck that Link both helpfully and humbly completed, the Witcher offered the Admiral a simple question. And it had a simple answer. “To bring to this damned war to an end, I would give a great deal indeed. That is the real tragedy, its cost far greater than what happened here today. Each spirit we recover means an Abyssal gone for good, does it? Well! We'll pluck those spirits from the sea yalm by yalm if we must. If you speak the truth, you will not find us uncooperative.”
Nearby, Lyngsath stood in silence, his expression grave. In the span of a few moments the situation had gone from an unforgivable outrage to a casualty in a struggle far beyond himself. As Bowser stepped forward to relieve the burden on Frog and delegate the cost of the damages to Peach, and the machine girl offered services of her own, he ruminated on the bigger picture. “Like every citizen of Limsa, I've felt the pain of the war. Every day we go about our business, smiling and talking like nothing is wrong, but knowing we have people dying out there, and sometimes in here...it's a heavy burden. If you people can really stop it, then...the Bismarck is a small price to pay.” The Culinarian admitted defeat with a face downcast, aware of the selfishness of his desires, and how little they amounted to in the end.
As his face turned down, however, Peach's turned up. A glint shone in her eyes as she seemed to swell with importance, and she made an announcement. “Chef,” she began, moving to the front of the group. “Peace may not be won with forks and knives. But what is peace for? So that people may live their lives without having to fear for tomorrow. Without having to suffer the pain of loss. So while this place -your livelihood- may seem like an acceptable loss in exchange for Limsa's safety, I'm not gonna suffer it. I promise that the treasury of the Mushroom Kingdom will pay for the repairs!”
Lyngsath looked up, shocked. All around the citizens and staff echoed his surprise in their whispers and expressions, as well as his hope. “Even though you don't have to?”
Try as she might, Peach could not hide her triumphant smile. Her worries about costs and punishments troubled her no more. In this moment, doing real good, she felt like a hero. “Because I don't have to.”
A chorus of cheers arose among the citizens. Between them, the spokesmen of the retinue of heroes had effected a complete reversal, turning their accusers into their debtors. Not only did they make good on the damages done, but reveal a way through which the whole city might see a brighter tomorrow. Merlwyb took a moment to make hushed arrangements with the guards to deal with any lingering spirits, then motioned for Blue Team to follow her to the Drowning Wench. There remained a couple moments in which the heroes could scoop up the spirits of the fallen men and women if so inclined. “I'm impressed,” she told Peach as she started off. “Not often that politicians open their purses to prove the weight of their words.” She tapped Pennsylvania on the shoulder. “Dispatch your squad to bring me the Commanders. Heinrich is on the water.” The woman saluted and ran off.
“You mentioned you can perform expedient treatment, yes?” the shipgirl Tosa could be heard asking Blazermate. “If so, we have a hospital full of ships in need of care. I doubt we possess the funds to properly compensate you, but if your company wishes to further demonstrate its benevolence, there can be no better avenue.”
As the crowd got underway, with the guards dispersing to their posts and the citizens their homes, Nadia followed along without a word, walking between Ace Cadet and Frog. For the life of her she couldn't have expected a better outcome, nor one more unanticipated. She nudged the Cadet with her elbow. “Whew, looks like I stumbled into a purr-etty good crowd, huh? I was with Bowser and Tin Cans over there in the Dead Zone. Name's Nadia, but you can call me Ms. Fortune!” She'd had plenty of time to wrap her head around what Kamek told her, and realize everything undertaken here was in pursuit of another Guardian. That sort of went without saying, but knowing that her teammates already possessed an idea how to do so really took a load off. Or maybe that was just the euphoria of getting away scot-free from such a terrible situation. Regardless she had some kind of energy she didn't have before, and she was feeling super.
Only looking at the changed Sephiroth, and remembering his callousness, threatened to dull her mood. Sure, from what Link said it sounded like the sorceress had been pretty rotten, but the guy was definitely unhinged. When the party reached the Drowning Wench, Merlwyb put out a call to asked Kamek and Geralt to join her to extract every last detail about spirits and formulate a plan. Peach turned to address the group.
“Take a load off. Something to eat, drink, whatever. You all have earned it.” She looked out at the tide of orange tainting the cloudless blue sky. “It's getting to be late. It's been a long day...” A yawn escaped her as she stretched. “Uwaaaaaaaaah! Hard to believe we defeated the dragon just this morning. The Admiral said we'll head out first thing tomorrow with the morning sortie, and they'll cut a way through for us to head for the Bottomless Sea. As for tonight, maybe we can get rooms here at the inn. 'Mizzenmast', its called.”
“Take it easy? Don't gotta tell me twice!” Nadia plopped into a seat, putting her legs on the table as she leaned back. She couldn't see Bacchus anywhere, and while she recalled catching a glimpse of Inigo somewhere in the crowd around the Bismarck, he wasn't around to chat anyone up either. That left her boss-seeking pals, both new and old. She waved at the group, beckoning over whoever might want to join her. “It ain't some posh sit-down place like the Bismarck, and it sure ain't Yu Wan's, but I could go for a couple bites of bar food. Hey miss, help meowt with a menu, huh?”
The barmaid, a pretty redhead who no doubt made her weight in tips daily, approached with a few menus. “Here for dinner? Whatcha wanna drink?”
“Water for me. A beer too, actually. Got anything sour?” Nadia asked, looking over the selection. “Hey, fish and chips sounds alright.”
For all his lackluster emoting so far, the Stranger did give a small snicker when the Skullgirl vented her frustration. “Took you long enough,” he taunted, throwing up his hands with a shrug of his shoulders, as if to say can you believe this to an invisible peanut gallery. He watched her prepare herself once again, this time calling forth lightning where ice and piercing had failed, and he beckoned her his way. For a moment, as the aura of her power reached him, he even looked sort of hopeful. She asked if he liked electricity. “My brother'd tell you otherwise, buuuuut...let's find out.”
A moment later she shot his way, arcs of power spread like wings behind her, surrounded in a vacuum of swirling frost. Her leg struck him with the speed and power of a lashing viper, seeking a weak point all across his body in a thunderstorm of blows. The Stranger took them all, a rueful smile on his face in the brief moments the Skullgirl could see it. If it pissed her off her next kick made it clear: a rock-hard boot to the jaw that wrenched his head sideways, twisting his body partially around. She could hear a minor cracking sound, like cracked knuckles, but nothing jarring. What it did do, however, was provoke a response; the Stranger leaned into the twist and came around with a spinning backhand to smack away his opponent's leg. Snow flew as he zipped behind her, grabbed her around the middle, and performed a suplex that smashed her head through the powder and into the ground once again.
This time her own neck gave a cracking sound, but not nearly so loud as the ground, already weakened by one titanic blow ealier. A deep rumbling sound echoed across the ice fields as a yawning fissure opened in the earth itself. Maybe this area covered a subterranean cave, or formed a valley long frozen over, but regardless of why it happened the feat perhaps gave the Skullgirl an appreciate for her enhanced defense.
When she arose again, she found herself separated from the Stranger by a couple dozen feet of open air, as they stood on either side of the brand new canyon. If the scale of the duel impressed the Stranger, however, he gave no sign. “This is POINTLESS,” he ranted. “I feel NOTHING. And you, you feel everything but you just keep trying. I'm not my brother, and if you'd just given me what I asked for we wouldn't have had to waste our time like this. But nooo...”
Factory and Functionality: The Gorging Trough, a dualistic palace of butchery. On first inspection it appears to be a collection of spotless white kitchens of marble, stainless steel, and porcelain. At its center is a grand dining hall, where the gentle burble of pristine fountains sing the praises of the myriad delectable dishes brought out for taste-testing, serving the staff, and entertaining and the occasional guest. However, these rooms compromise only a portion of the factory's total area.
Behind the presentable facade, accessible via secret doors and unguarded dumbwaiters, is a veritable maze of dingy brick and slime-spattered stone, its perennial haze murkily lit by sickly lamps of yellow and green. Shrieking, mutated livestock wait their turns to be carved open on the chopping block, their carcasses hung on the lines of moving hooks that permeate the place or strewn upon its conveyor belts, and their blood drained into the canals. Bubbling pots, sputtering spit-roasts, and roaring ovens operate twenty-four seven, with urns, jars, jugs, of bizarre spices, sauces, and wines on hand to treat the dishes as needed. And seldom do the pantries want for ingredients, from the mundane to the exotic.
The Gorging Trough serves to create the food used throughout the guild by its NPCs and members. In turn, any unwanted organic materials or chemicals gathered by the guild's personnel would by dumped at the Trough. The elaborate backend of the factory processes the various ingredients to make a large variety of dishes, and not just for sustenance. The Trough's offers a huge selection of foods that confer useful buffs and passive abilities. These include, to name a few, restoring stamina and mana, providing potent elemental resistances, increasing strength and defense, instigating or powering up shields and healing, creating elemental auras, enhancing vision and hearing, cleansing debuffs, and so forth, as well as a whole suite of gag dishes and ones that inflict statuses. The Trough attended by Maneaters—beautiful and full-figured waitresses who work tirelessly to satisfy all comers. Naturally, all feature monstrous, carnivorous true forms as well.
Appearance: Standing at over seven feet tall (nine in fact) and frightfully obese, Mae is a monster of a chef. Her pale, sallow skin is for the most part hidden beneath a huge chef's outfit consisting of a bulging white double-breasted jacket, striped dark brown pants, and an apron that reaches her knees. She has a sleek dark brown cape thrown back over her shoulders when it's time to work, which coalesces at the top into a vaguely hood-shaped bundle with only a dark hole at the front. She has no head at all, in fact, but on occasion a great tongue will emerge from within the hood. She also wears a red neckerchief and a belt, from which dangle various tools of the trade, pouches of additives and seasonings and a few small cages. The palms of her hands have their own mouths.
Personality: Mae is emphatically motivated by her work. She sees herself as not just an artist striving for culinary perfection, but a scientist pushing forward the boundaries of what is possible, thereby advancing and enlightening civilization in both respects. Though happy to do whatever it takes in service of her craft, she's not overtly malicious or aggressive, instead sporting sometimes alarmingly jolly attitude. Whatever she does she does with gusto, and a certain theatrical aplomb. Her booming laughter comes easily, and she tends to treat her allies as warmly as they'll allow, but anyone else is good for little else in her eyes but savoring her craft. Victims can prolong their existence with flattery and cooperation, which she is susceptible to given her desire to see others relish her work as much as she does, but few can avoid the cookpot forever. Her drive to innovate and experiment tends to make her see ingredients before anything else, no matter what she looks at, but her loyalty to the guild is redoubtable.
Creator:Sugi the Hammer – a gung-ho but not very creative warrior who wanted to have fun with the game without having to think much about builds and such. He built purely for strength and health, and when he couldn't get by any more, made a chef NPC inspired by a monster butcher from another game (and his mother-in-law) whose food could heal him and give him the versatility he otherwise lacked
Overseer Build
Level: 62
Racial Levels:
Ghoul (8) - A nocturnal, malignant detritivore known to skulk around battlefields, crypts, and wherever else the dead may be found. Although scavengers, they're vicious fighters as well
Headless (5) - Abominations neither quite living or dead, possessed of a degree of intelligence despite having no head. Often used for their brute strength or labor by dabblers in especially dark arts
Great Old One (3) - A thing that should not be, from outer places and distant planes. Coming in all shapes and sizes, these noisome entities are united in their unknowable horror, and propensity for causing madness
Job Levels:
Culinarian (10) - A basic cooking class, utilized by peasant and noble alike to procure food
Alchemist (8) - The primary chemist class, valued across the world for their useful, special concoctions
Gourmet (5) - An advanced class for the professional chef, whose masterful art smacks of magical utility
Barbarian (8) - A basic fighter class, forgoing defense and technique for the furious strength of the wild
Slaughter (10) - A gruesome advanced class that embodies the cruelty and terror of a blood-soaked killer
Feaster (5) - A monstrous premier class that revolves around food--both its weaponization and the revelation that all anything needs to become it is a little effort. When all you have is a mouth, everything starts looking like a meal
Stat Block:
HP: 80
MP: 20
PHY. ATK: 50
PHY. DEF: 30
AGI: 15
MAG. ATK: 20
MAG. DEF: 30
RESIST: 30
SPECIAL: 35
Stat Total (Power): 310
Overseer Inventory and Powers
Inventory:
Flesh Hooks – A pair of large chain hooks enchanted with dark magic. They have an exceptionally high chance to inflict Bleeding, and if they hit a bleeding opponent, their wielder is healed for a portion of damage dealt. In addition to slashing and stabbing, they can also be used to snatch and pull opponents, or even pull herself around
Night-lined Mantle – a cape that muffles the sound produced by its wearer when not rolled back, and makes her much more difficult to see in darkness
Titan's Clogs – a heavy set of shoes that itch to crush lesser beings beneath their might. Magnifies the damage dealt by falling on things proportional to the weight of the wearer
Carmine's Companion – a ruby brooch that strengthens the healing received and given by the wearer according to how much blood is within a meter of the jewel, and glows accordingly. Affixed to Mae's kerchief
Balm of Gilead – a container of enchanted incense that will give the keeper a burst of healing a few seconds after taking any hit that deals 30% of the wearer's HP or more
Cook's Cache – an all-in-one collection of portable cooking utensils and ingredients
Chemist's Cache – an all-in-one collection of portable alchemical apparatus and reagents
Witching Veil - a charm given to Mae by one of her creator's guildmates, who hated her monstrous appearance and wished Sugi had made her beautiful. A very popular item in the original game, it casts a glamour over the wearer making him or her appear to be an attractive human with an appropriate getup for her primary class. Mae's makes her appear to be a voluptuous chef with long white hair, but she wears it as little as possible, and even with it applied makes no effort whatsoever to act any different. Oddly enough, the idea of a gorgeous, svelte cook who's jolly, forthright, and gluttonous instead of distant, coy, or sophisticated gives the resulting fabrication its own sort of charm.
Powers:
Corpse-eater – as a Ghoul, Mae is a little stronger in darkness and weaker in bright light, and she is only nourished by meat, but she can eat disturbingly quickly and receive full benefit from rotten food, though she'll still refuse to eat it. She is also weak to silver-based weapons but immune to poison
Headlessness – as a Headless Horror, Mae has no head-based weakspot, but cannot see normally. Instead she has limited Blindsight that penetrates darkness for about thirty meters, after which she is completely blind. She is also resistant to curses
Living Nightmare – as a Great Old One, Mae is highly resistant to Madness, and passively builds up Madness on weaker creatures that behold her so long as they aren't allies. Enough Madness will cause irrational behavior, often destructive to the self or allies, with occasional obsession over the source. She also has authority over lesser horrors
Master Chef – a Gourmet essential. Somehow, Mae is able to cook as if a whole kitchen has her back whilst on the go, requiring only barebones equipment and heat
Making the Most – a Culinarian skill. after making a dish, Mae has a chance to regain a portion of the ingredients used
Made to Order – a Culinarian skill. Any dish Mae makes has a bonus effect if eaten within a three-minute 'freshness period'. This bonus effect restores the consumer's most depleted resource
Next to Godliness – a Gourmet boon. Eating a dish made by Mae will cleanse a random debuff even if that wasn't the dish's effect
Invigorating Fumes – an Alchemist talent. If Mae gets in close range of an ally stricken by hard CC, an alchemical concoction can cleanse the status
Warding Breath – an Alchemist skill that increases Mae's resistance to statuses (but not damage) inflicted by the environment, and slows down their buildup
Counteragent – an Alchemist skill that speeds up the expiration of debuffs on Mae
Quality Control – An Alchemist talent that reduces the impurities of alchemical products Mae makes or adds to
Mix Master –an Alchemist boon that occasionally doubles the output of alchemical products made by Mae
Dirty Apron – a Gourmet specialty useful in both the catch and the battlefield. Attacking a blood-imbrued target directly in front of Mae with a melee attack will spatter her with blood, giving a stack of Bloodletting that increases her attack speed. Additional stacks will refresh the duration
Clean Sleeves – another Gourmet specialty that means Mae is able to convert her stacks of Bloodletting into Blood Rush with a flourish, changing her bonus attack speed into movement speed, and also cleaning her off
Wanton Bloodshed – a Barbarian skill that increases damage given and taken
Wild Fury – a Barbarian skill that increases the range of basic attacks and prevents damage from scaling when striking multiple opponents
Defiant Growth – a Barbarian skill. When used, Mae's heartbeat quickens for a few moments, after which she heals based on damage taken during that time
Spine Chill – a perk of her Slaughter class. Enemies who see their allies take critical damage from Mae (including death) are stricken by Fear and suffer decreased healing plus increased cast times
Coup de Grace – a Slaughter skill. If the number of enemies in an encounter falls to 1, Mae's next attack deals guaranteed critical damage
Monitor & Abuse – a Slaughter ability. When activated, as long as enemies are aware of Mae but she does not attack, Fear slowly begins to build. Her next attack deals bonus damage and heals her based on her target's Fear, but prevents further Fear build up until the ability is deactivated
Splash Zone – a Slaughter ability that causes foes slammed into walls or other hard surfaces by Mae's attacks to release a gory explosion, dealing bonus damage in an area
Lion's Share – a Feaster specialty. It's a slow and short-ranged skill that can execute a low-health enemy, healing Mae for all its remaining life as she consumes it
Trim the Fat – a Feaster skill that cleaves a portion of still-living flesh from the struck foe and sends it flying, causing bleeding and reducing their maximum health. If not picked up by the foe, the reduction is permanent. 'Flesh' refers to a chunk of the target's constituent material, so the skill will work on blood and fleshless foes, but it won't cause bleeding
Farm to Table – a Feaster skill that pulls cooking ingredients from the foe. Dropped items depend on the constitution of the target and its equipment
Savor Each Bite – a Feaster ability that increases the restoration provided by consumables. Can be shared with allies
Don't Mind if I Do - a crippling Feaster passive ability. Mae consumes a portion of any healing that occurs in her vicinity, even enemies'
Gone Bad – a conniving Feaster skill turns an enemy's next instance of healing, either outgoing or incoming, to poison damage
Share and Share Alike – the Feaster's signature skill. It allows Mae to use her food-based consumables against her foes, negating their effects. A 'negated effect' refers to the inverse of the intended beneficial effect, IE a spicy dish that grants fire resistance would instead inflict fire weakness. Doing this will not necessarily pull aggro if it hasn't been already
Five-course Meal – the Feaster's ultimate skill. Each food item used on a foe thanks to Share and Share Alike reduces its agility and defense in addition to its other effects. This effect caps at 5 stacks, but if another stack is added after that, the foe is cleansed of all negative effects, suffers a heart attack, and is reduced to 1 HP
Boss Theme: Phase 1 (No eating, attempted usage of Fear mechanics)
Phase 2 (Full aggression, consumable abuse)
Maneater
A former human twisted into a burgeoning grotesque by depravity and vice, wholly given over to unabashed indulgence and decadence. Whatever remains of the monster's former dignity, sophistication, and comeliness -extravagant as they might seem- represents no more than a convenient facade under which greater excesses may be acquired—an exquisite lid covering an overgrown privy. The Maneater feasts and revels without the slightest hint of genuine restraint or regret for what she once was. When excited into decisive action, a Maneater throws the lazy mask aside to swell into a hideous nightmare of mutilated, mocking flesh, ready to begin its mad, ravenous bender
Appearance: Maneaters can take a large variety of forms, both in Placid and Jubiliant states. They can be courtiers, partygoers, consorts, cultists, and more, typically representing those with wealth and status given over to dark passions, but those of the Gorging Trough -mostly female- appear to be waitresses and cooks. Dressed in spotlessly lavish checkered or striped black and white formal attire (including suits, dresses, and aprons) with red kerchiefs, ascots, and bow ties, all possess a singular attractiveness and heartiness. They are all named after cuts or varieties of meat, a macabre trend that one begins to understand when faced with their horrific Jubiliant states, which are all singularly freakish conglomerates of twisted flesh whose names summarize their constituents.
Head - The sous chef of the Gorging Trough, as well as the kitchen's critic and quality control. His standards are impossibly high and he grades everything in an exacting manner. Only smoking seems to bring him any joy. His Placid form is a uncannily tall, thin man with a tight face and severe haircut, as well as French accent; his Jubiliant form further lengthens and twists his limbs while also swelling the size of his head to nightmarish proportions, misshaping it in the process. His backstory describes a vengeful butler who sought to punish indulgent nobles who partied to extravagant excess by guiding them to accursed ruin, but for his own greed joined them in their downfall.
Rib - Stern, professional, and formidable, she is fiercely protective of the kitchens and her fellow Maneaters, only ever showing a soft, maternal side around close friends. In terms of prowess she's a generalist, although she prefers meat. Her Placid form is a well-built, dusky maiden with a bun of night-black hair, as well as bright red eyes and matching glasses; her Jubiliant form features a towering gutted torso, a lumbering tree of curved bone blades. Her backstory describes a desperate mother on hard times forced to bitterly abide by the whims of a wealthy 'benefactor', and who was dragged down by the curse that befell him
Shank - Mischievous and lazy at times, but both skilled and inventive, Shank is opinionated and outspoken about them, as well as never one to shy away from dirty work. She's best with spicy food and works well alongside Flank. Her Placid form is a short human with a dark blue pixie cut, a toothy grin, and freckles; her Jubiliant form is a twisted, gremlin spiked with bone blades and armed with long claws. Her backstory tells of a group of young girls trained as assassins, forced to compete against one another even to eat, and of one tormented child whose intolerable hunger drove her one day to slaughter the rest.
Chuck - Friendly and cheerful, she jokes that her name is short for 'Charlie', and friends call her as such. Her specialty is vegetable dishes, and she is fond of nature. Her Placid form is elven, with fair skin and long, mint-green hair in a braid; her Jubiliant form is practically pinned beneath the weight of growths on her back, although a horribly long and swollen neck can extend a leechlike head incredible distances. Her backstory describes an adventurer who delved too deeply into mystic woods and got lost. On the verge of death she stumbled upon a strange, magical plant, but the instant its fruit touched her lips she forgot everything--her past, her name, all but the feast before her.
Flank – Level-headed and quietly concentrated most of the time, Flank does the best job she can in an attempt to get herself together. She loathes her monstrous side, wanting to be normal, and when in her right state of mind she pretty much is, but the occasional hunger rage leaves her no better than the rest. Her Placid form is an unassuming human with fluffy brown hair in a ponytail and slightly plump figure; her Jubiliant form is a bloated torso atop an enormous mass of legs. Her backstory tells of a reluctant member of a group of well-to-do friends, who were convinced by a shady character to take part in a cultish ritual. Only she escaped the chaos with any semblance of a rational mind, but the curse upon her steadily made a Maneater out of her nonetheless.
Round - Sweet, shy, modest, and self-conscious, she is the most talented at making luxuriant, indulgent dishes among the Maneaters. Her Placid form is a red-tipped blonde human with short, spiky hair and soft features, extremely portly, with a Southern accent; her Jubiliant form is a bulbous, gelatinous mass of flesh and mouths with no human resemblance beyond vague coloration. Her backstory details a priestess on a mission to assassinate the leader of a cult propagating corruption and creating Maneaters, and who infiltrated his order to do so. Instead she succumbed herself, bit by bit, until she fell hard and all memory of her former slipped away beneath a torrent of lavish excess.
Tongue – Scathing and sarcastic, Tongue is a prideful Maneater who sees herself as a cut above the rest. In her vanity she believes herself to be a lady of exemplary class, which at the very least extends to her talent with making drinks. Her Placid form is an elegant and distinguished if paunchy vampire with elaborate ash-blonde hair, impressive jewelry, and sharp features; her Jubiliant form is a ghostly wretch with a huge, blood-sucking tongue several times her own size. Her backstory describes an exiled queen who sought any alliance with which to secure her future. The only suitor she attracted turned out to be a vampire, but she took to the life far stronger than he ever did, feasting so ravenously on her former subjects that she developed into a Maneater.
Heart – A hopeless romantic who views food as the quickest way to a man's heart. She's good at her job, particularly with pasta and bread dishes, but always seems to trip over herself falling in love at the drop of a hat. Her Placid form is a voluptuous human with wild pink hair, always dolled up to look her best; her Jubiliant form sees her engorged heart burst from her chest, extending a web of vein tentacles. Her backstory describes a servant madly in love, who would do most anything to please her master, including coddle his own bad habits until she herself could not escape their tangle.
Roast – Spirited and fiery-tempered, Roast bolsters her natural culinary prowess compared with sheer energy. With dark skin, lustrous gray hair swept to one side, and bright eyes, she's pretty and skilled enough to inspire annoyance in her fellow Maneaters, and often gets into arguments that she seldom takes too seriously. Her Jubiliant form is a melting, flaming husk that's almost a lava slime, but still human enough to be deeply unsettling. Her backstory tells of an adventurous girl who never felt satisfied with the ordinary world, and who happened upon the guild by chance. Before her execution she asked for a chance to prove herself, and Mae put her to work in the Gorging Trough, where she excelled even before becoming a Maneater.
Tender - Passionate to the extreme, she's a neurotic perfectionist who's easy to upset, always a hairs-breadth away from bursting into tears. Her particular talents lend her to work on custom dishes tailored for individual customers and situations. Her human form is a extremely pale, with long, straight black hair, big watery eyes, and a slender figure; her Jubiliant form is a shrieking, centipede horror of gaunt human limbs and extremely long, trailing hair. Her backstory describes a noble but shut-in girl who no matter how she tried could never please her demanding parents, and who fell harder and harder into other means of comfort until she could never rise again.
Schematic
Level: 35
Racial Levels:
Decadent (10) – Overriding Human levels, a monstrous degradation from humanity
Flesh Golem (10) – A gruesome, unwholesome congeries of malevolent meat
Maneater (5) – One who cultivates a noble, beauteous lie to mask a visceral horror
Job Levels:
Culinarian (10) – A cook with the skills to make any conventional fare and a few specialties
Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.
Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">Current GM of World of Light. When it comes to writing, there's nothing I love more than imagination, engagement, and commitment. I'm always open to talk, suggestion, criticism, and collaboration. While I try to be as obliging, helpful, and courteous as possible, I have very little sympathy for ghosts, and anyone who'd like to string me along. Straightforwardness is all I ask for.<br><br>Looking for more personal details? I'm just some dude from the American south; software development is my job but games, writing, and trying to help others enjoy life are my passions. Been RPing for over a decade, starting waaaay back with humble beginnings on the Spore forum, so I know a thing or two, though I won't pretend to be an expert. If you're down for some fun, let's make something spectacular together.</div>
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Rezod92
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kapuchu
Elite Minor
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Nallore
